


Proximal, Midal, Distal

by eudaimon



Series: Fingerbones - Jamie Kirk [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eudaimon/pseuds/eudaimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rationally, quietly, over breakfast maybe, in another room maybe, Doctor Leonard McCoy knows the names of every single one of the delicate and lovely bones that makes up the human hand. All of that goes out of the window when he's around Jamie.</p><p>(Takes place in a verse where Kirk was born a girl).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proximal, Midal, Distal

In her sleep, she cries and he does the only thing he can: he reaches out and presses his hand against her forehead and he lets her know he's there. He's noticed this: how hard the Captain dreams. Pike never gets tired of the story: Kirk's father was Captain for fifteen minutes. As of right now, the Enterprise has been Kirk's for three years but they've been skirting around each other for closer to seven, the two of them, since their first day at the Academy. Kirk flirts like a professional, flashes broad grins and pushes her hands through her tawny hair. She undresses quickly in the dark and she's always gone in the morning. Sometimes, in bars, she acts almost aggressively available, dancing with her body pressed close. He's pretty sure that she does it to remind him how much he wants her.

"You're drunk," he tells her, her face cradled in both hands. And kisses her. It took a long time that the line that his wedding ring left to fade.

"And you're an asshole, Bones, and we'll both be sober in the morning."

Oh, Captain, my Captain.

And then he lets her take him to bed, and he lets her because she's the Captain, _his_ Captain, and he loves her.

Naked, Jamie T. Kirk stretches both arms over her head and tousles ten long fingers through her log hair. Rationally, quietly, over breakfast maybe, in another room maybe, Doctor Leonard McCoy knows the names of every single one of the delicate and lovely bones that makes up the human hand. All of that goes out of the window when he's around Jamie. It always has. The things that he remembers around her are things like the fact that she's got two lumpy finger joints set badly after a bar-fight. He remembers her ready to fight on IO, fists up, shoulders squared, the way that she'd turned her head and spat blood and flexed her neck from side to side. _The only thing I've got left are my bones_ : the first time he met her, strapped in beside her on that goddamn ship. She'd smelled of leather and bike oil. Somehow, _this_ is the shit that he never forgets, along with his daughter's birthday and the key-code of his quarters, the one that he never forgets even when his body is almost too bone weary to stand. It helps that both numbers are one and the same.

Usually, the bone weary nights are the nights he ends up sleeping somewhere else, anyway.

Some nights, it's just plain fucking, others it feels more like making love, when he peels her out of her uniform and unclips her bra one handed. She throws her leg across him, sits astride him and, this time, it's him who presses his hands through her hair.

 _Scaphoid. Lunate. Triquetrum. Pisiform. Trapezium. Trapezoid. Capitate. Harnate. Metacarpal. Phalanges._  
Delicate and lovely, but bone all the same.

"You're fucking beautiful," he tells her through gritted teeth, both hands sliding up over her tits as she leans her weight forward and takes him deeper. She shakes her head which sends her hair into her eyes and she palms it back and stays there, cradling her forehead with her cupped hand.

"Don't do that, Bones. Don't do that to me."

It's easier on both of them if this doesn't really mean anything; if she can do this here because she's _safe_ with him. If she can be 'Jamie' here with him and then "Captain" with him somewhere else.

One hand tightens on her breast, the other skimming down the glorious curve of her spine and he smacks her ass and tugs her closer which'll remind them both who they are and what they're doing here. 

He hardly ever stays a whole night; she's the Captain, so it's not like she can go slinking down corridors with her boots in her hands, but he can. He does that for her, because there are nights when she cries in he rsleep and all that he can do is reach out and press his hand against her forehead, stay close and wonder what the hell she's dreaming that's so damn _sad_.

He's not sure which one of them fucked it up first.


End file.
